Temptations
by Clara Christine Eveline
Summary: One-shot: On a seemingly ordinary day, John wants to relax. Sherlock sees this as a problem. How will our consulting detective convince John to go out on a case with him? Danger is addictive.


**Temptations**

The unkempt flat of 221B Baker Street was quiet for once in the early hours of the day. The scratchy violin playing and gun-firing had peculiarly not been going on throughout the night. And so it was that John Watson, former army doctor from Afghanistan and loyal flat mate and friend to Sherlock Holmes, found himself waking up in quite a good mood. Just yesterday the pair had been chasing criminals down the London alleyways, the chill of winter nipping at their feet. An undisturbed sleep was just what John needed to cultivate his sore body.

Stumbling into the kitchen, John set the kettle on the stove. He could just feel that today would be calm. But alas, when you're living with Sherlock Holmes, nothing is calm.

The great detective roused from his slumber and waltzed into the living room. Slipping on his thin, striped robe, Sherlock collapsed onto the couch. Once again, as with any finished case, Sherlock was bored. Terribly, horribly, bored. The culprit had easily been caught by Lestrade's team. And he turned out to just be any other burglar who hit a low in his life.

_Completely and u_tterly_ ordinary._ Thought Sherlock rather glumly. Today could only get duller, and with that, the detective sprang off the couch in search of his only friend, John.

The shrill sound of the tea kettle whistled throughout the flat, Sherlock glided into the kitchen and stood right behind John. John, not hearing him approach was blissfully unaware as he fixed his first of many cups of tea for today.

"I'll take some too, thank you." Sherlock rumbled in his baritone voice.

"Jesus Sherlock! Don't sneak up on me like that." John said as he whipped around startled.

Sherlock eyed him carefully again. Reaching conclusions on John's posture, he started to rattle off his deductions. "Rigid stance, obviously surprised." Sherlock began in his normal, clipped tone.

"Too early for your shrewd deductions Sherlock, I'm still tired from-"John started to argue, but he was rudely interrupted.

"Ah, a little agitation I see." Sherlock smirked.

"Oh shut it. My day was going perfectly fine till you decided to come harass me." John accused. He said it in an annoyed tone, but Sherlock could catch the friendliness in his voice.

"I'm not harassing you John, I'm merely observing." Sherlock replied cheerfully. "Where's that 'Fantastic!', 'Wonderful!' 'Amazing!' You always give me?" He inquired.

John looked up at the taller man and scowled. Swiftly turning around, John poured himself some tea and left the rest for Sherlock. Walking into the living room, John scooped up his laptop and sat down in his favorite chair.

Sherlock pouted his childish pout, and followed John. Sitting on the couch, Sherlock adopted his taciturn disposition and studied John. _Why? Why doesn't John want to do anything fun today? There are some glorious murders in the paper, perfect for this morning. I need a case now._ Sherlock sighed.

"Why?" He eventually asked out loud.

John didn't respond for a moment, causing Sherlock to become rather annoyed. Finally closing his laptop, John looked at Sherlock with a steely gaze. "Why what, Sherlock?" He sighed exasperatedly.

"Why won't you go out on a case with me?" Sherlock asked, his voice becoming much like a whining child.

John studied him thoughtfully for a second then replied. "I'm tired. All night chasing criminals does that to you."

Sherlock frowned and glared at John. "But-" He began.

"No Sherlock, I want a normal day today." John said stiffly. "If you're looking for someone to go running around with, go pester the officers at Scotland Yard."

Sherlock was aghast. "No!" He shouted. "For God's sake John, they're all idiots, and their filled with complete rubbish. I understand I'm really the only_ superior_ person around, but their level of stupid is beyond stupid. Everyone is entitled to be stupid, but some abuse the privilege." He ended his rant quite pleased with himself.

John rolled his eyes at his deprecating flat mate. The man was as easy to work with as a three-year old. Yet he held the brain of the utmost genius. _Not this time._ Thought John, _I'll stand my ground. You won't go on any cases with him. _He firmly told himself. Sherlock's puppy dog eyes stared into John's sapphire blue ones. This continued on for several minutes. _Don't. Resist the urge. You've had enough adrenaline rushes for a while Dr. Watson._ John reminded himself. But Sherlock persisted. On the stubborn men stared. As if lost in some odd staring contest. John's eyes faltered for a bit. _No, don't do it. You don't want to be even more sore so you?_ Sherlock kept his gaze; sure that John would break and go on a case with him. Onwards the two battled their silent battle.

Inside, Sherlock was anxious. _What if John really can avoid agreeing to everything I say?_ This deeply worried Sherlock. He was the one who was supposed to be in charge. Right when the self-professed sociopath was about to give up, John cleared his throat.

"Okay." John mumbled. Uncomfortable with the fact that he just conceded with his unreasonable flat mate. He stood up and grabbed his coat. Sherlock stared dumbly at him. Now it was his turn to be in shock. "Well, aren't you coming? I heard about the Cardiff murders down the street." John grinned.

"Yes. Yes of course." Sherlock replied. Quickly grabbing his Belstaff coat and expensive cashmere scarf, Sherlock ran out the door to hail a cab.

Even John Watson can't resist the urge of a good murder. With adrenaline levels high, the pair clambered into the back seat, and off the two went, completely aware of how dangerous their addiction to danger was.

**~Fin~**

_**Just a little one-shot I wrote for an ELA project. I had to incorporate 8 of my vocabulary words. So why not write a story on something I like? Tell me what you think! I love hearing from you. **___


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